


If only he had understood

by sebviathan



Series: Untold Janitor Story [4]
Category: Scrubs
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, well technically
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 18:55:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3540380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sebviathan/pseuds/sebviathan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The AU where everything goes right.</p><p>(Direct companion piece to Five times J.D. didn't understand (and the one time he finally did).)</p>
            </blockquote>





	If only he had understood

**Author's Note:**

> You don't necessarily have to read any of the other Untold Janitor Story fics to understand this one, but it won't really make sense without the Five Times fic. This is kind of directly based off the events in that one. Like, some paragraphs are straight up copied.

Out of the corner of his eye, he catches a flash of copper. The janitor silently commends his supernatural senses and glances to catch said copper fall, conveniently land deftly enough on its side to roll another foot, right into the empty space of the sliding door. His thought process wavers into the possibility that the penny had a mind of its own to land there, but before he can latch onto the idea he looks up and sees the source of the penny.

He's one of the cutest men he's ever seen. Feminine features, but oddly enough a particularly large adam's apple. And stupid hair, but the janitor wants to grab it—and yank it right off of his head ( _stop it with the violent thoughts, I don't want that_ ).

The new intern (the janitor figures, since he's never seen him before and it's the first day for interns) hesitates in his tracks, and his eyes seem to follow the penny as well. Just for a moment, to notice how odd it is that it would get stuck in the door like that, and then he's walking past the doorframe.

He briefly and impassively catches the janitor's gaze, then keeps walking. For a moment, it makes him irrationally angry that the intern didn't give him the time of day.

The next day, one of the orderlies lets him know that one of the sliding doors is broken, and  _whodathunk_ , it's the same one the penny rolled into.

He believes it's fate that brings that very same intern to the door while he's trying to get the penny out—the janitor catches his reflection in the door, just standing there, and he accidentally seems to intimidate the crap out of him when he turns around.

"Oh—I'm waiting for someone."  _Jesus, even his voice is cute._

The janitor nods, and then he gets an idea.

"The door is broke—probably the fifth time or so, it don't open."

Just as he expected, the intern is smart enough to realize that it's his own fault, and there's a very short glint of fear in his eyes. Likely due to the janitor's scary demeanor.

"Maybe there's a penny stuck in there...?"

Oh good, now he's on the way to admitting it, and then the janitor can forgive him, tell him it's no problem, and they can be friends. Maybe (hopefully) closer.

"Why a penny?"

"...I—I don't know."

"Did you stick a penny in there?"

"No, I was just making small talk—"

"If I find a penny in there," the janitor starts, making a point of reaching out and poking the intern's chin with his screwdriver, "I'm taking you down."

He gulps, and gets away as quickly as possible. The janitor decides he'll give him the week to confess.

It only takes a few days, however, for him to retrieve the penny, and it's when the intern sees him with it that he finally approaches.

"Look man, I'm really sorry, I swear it just—it fell out of my pocket and there was nothing I could do about it, and I know you probably spent a while getting it out so—" He pauses his frantic apology to search for his wallet and pull out a five dollar bill, which he pushes into the janitor's hands—"there, I really hope we're even, and I really don't want to bother you anymore—"

The intern starts to walk away, but the janitor grabs the back of his scrubs and turns him back around. He looks surprised to see the janitor with this considerably softer demeanor.

"Don't sweat it, kid," he tells him, handing him the five dollars back and giving him an amused smile.

"You're not mad?" the intern asks innocently. Jesus, he's so cute.

"Nope. Just glad you apologized."

"Oh." He finally smiles back at him, and pockets his own five dollars again. "Well, thanks. For not taking me down."

_Holy shit, am I flirting with a doctor? I am. We're flirting._

"Keeping the penny, though," he says. And then as the intern begins walking away again, he pats him on the arm and goes back to mopping.

* * *

 

The intern's name is John Michael Dorian, better known as J.D., and he's nice but kind of an idiot. After the whole penny situation the janitor has been trying to flirt with him more—gently teasing him while he's on break, that kind of thing, but he doesn't  _get it_. As the guy continues to be oblivious, he has no choice but to get meaner and meaner—and even still, J.D. only seems to see him as a friend. A month passes and he doesn't even ask for the janitor's name.

"Why not invite him out to do something?" one of his nameless drinking-buddies (as in, he never bothered to learn the guy's name) suggests. "Like to a sports game or a movie."

That makes enough sense, and the janitor thinks it should get the point across that he wants their relationship to go further than the workplace.

So he takes him out to a baseball game. Not only does everything remain frustratingly platonic, but J.D. also  _still_  doesn't ask for his name.

And then he tries that guy's second suggestion—a movie. That's far more explicitly romantic, isn't it? This is bound to work.

 _Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone_ , however, doesn't end up being the kind of movie where he can do the yawning-arm-stretch move and start making out. J.D. read the books so he's genuinely interested in just watching, and the janitor admittedly gets sucked in as well.

By the time he's driving home, though, he supposes that at least he got to see the guy all giddy like that. It was pretty damn adorable.

After some time, he starts to feel like giving up on trying to be more than friends. It wouldn't be so bad if it was simply that J.D. liked someone else (which wouldn't be a surprise, what with how he behaves with Turk), but the janitor gets the feeling that it's an issue of class. Maybe he was wrong about this doctor being different than all the rest.

And then he tries to stop doubting himself, but that doesn't erase the fact that nothing is working.

"I don't get it, I've done everything," he says for what feels like the thousandth time—not out drinking, this time, but at a cafe. He's sitting down with a stranger whom he's trapped in a conversation about J.D.

The other man seems rather frazzled, though too invested in the story, now, to just tell him to leave. That, and too intimidated by his stature.

"Have you tried just... being direct?" he offers.

The janitor frowns, unintentionally making himself look considerably meaner. "I  _am_ , were you not listening?"

He proceeds to pull out a flask and pour the remaining  _whatever_  (he doesn't remember, but it's clear) into his coffee. The stranger looks briefly shocked but is clearly too afraid to comment.

"Well..." the stranger eventually says, as the janitor is glaring heavily in wait for a response, "um. Maybe he just thinks you're being very friendly. Make your feelings clear—I mean,  _say_  them. Or... do something he can't possibly confuse as platonic."

The janitor raises his eyebrows for just a second to consider it, and then he frowns, and then softens up a second later. "What if he doesn't feel the same and I ruin it?"

"...I guess you'll just have to deal with it."

At that, he downs his alcohol-infused coffee and stands up to leave, then looks down at the other man. "If this ruins it, I'm holding you accountable."

That'll probably be the last time he forces a stranger to give him advice, though he does fully plan to take it.

On the week of Christmas, the janitor volunteers to help put up decorations around Sacred Heart. He strategically places mistletoe everywhere he could reasonably expect J.D. to be, planning to catch him under one of them.

Through the week he does keep finding him, but none of the moments are right. It's either too crowded, or not the right lighting, or J.D. doesn't even notice the mistletoe and the janitor can't acknowledge it or it'll be too awkward. He can't do it like that—it has to be perfect. Like the movies.

Finally, though, the perfect moment comes. Well, he  _makes_  the perfect moment. It's an empty hallway and the janitor is finishing up his evening shift, and J.D. is coming back inside to get the jacket he "forgot" (the janitor stole it) when he slips on a conveniently placed puddle of water.

The janitor pretends to only just notice J.D. fall, and then he rushes over to help with an outstretched hand.

"Do you ever bother putting out wet floor signs?" he asks breathlessly, still apparently winded from his back hitting the hard tile.

"When I actually feel like doing my job, sometimes," he smirks. Then, before his friend can make a move to walk away, he casually glances upward, lets his eye catch on the mistletoe just long enough that it's noticeable but not weird, and waits for J.D.'s gaze to inevitably follow his. It does, and there's a glint in those doe-eyes, and it's obvious. He noticed.

The janitor purses his lips and J.D. looks mildly scared, but that doesn't stop him from dipping down five inches and grabbing his chin and confidently, firmly kissing him on the mouth, as planned and mentally rehearsed. That's about as non-platonic as it gets.

It's better than he imagined, though it takes a couple seconds for J.D. to reciprocate. He opens his mouth slightly and deepens it, and his breath is warm on the janitor's lips, which makes his confidence grow—he reaches out with one hand—but his fingertips can only brush J.D.'s cheek for half a second before he pulls away.

"What are you doing?" he says. It's a sort of love-drunk whisper, and that gives the janitor even more confidence, so he reaches his hand further anyway and grabs J.D.'s face.

"Something I've been trying to do for weeks."

For a moment J.D. just stares back, and the janitor is suddenly afraid that that was too much confidence, and he shouldn't have done that—

But then his friend kisses him again. And there's a fist in his collar and another one in his hair, and he honestly can't remember the last time he had something like this. A kiss that wasn't in a bed—a kiss that actually made his chest feel warm all on its own.

J.D. is the one who breaks the kiss the second time, but only just far enough that he can speak clearly.

"Holy shit, I don't even know your  _name_. I'm so sorry, I—"

"It's Glen," he says immediately, slightly muffled against J.D.'s lips.

As great as the kissing is, and as much as he does not want to stop,  _that_  will be what he remembers as the most important part of this moment.

* * *

 

Glen is a happy man.

He and J.D. have officially started going on dates— _real_  dates, where they both  _know_  it's a date, and where they kiss afterward and eventually get in each other's beds. J.D. calls him by his name now, and Glen still calls him Scooter sometimes but it's really a pet name.

Other people know about them, too. In some ways it's great, actually being considered a part of the hospital "family" now that he's dating a doctor. But past J.D.'s best friend coming to give him his support on their relationship, all the new attention is stressful as hell.

The mean doctor who always calls J.D. girls' names is the first person, even before Turk, to come talk to him while he's cleaning. And it's to ask him to "puh- _lease_  find some way to convince Dorian to drop the whole doctor thing and just work with you, jumpsuit, because I can't stand her."

Of course he's not serious, but it's a stupid joke. And yet he keeps coming back with them, complaining about his "girlfriend," getting his stupid curls right up in Glen's face until finally he just snaps.

"Okay, I get it, you're a sexist and you got some repressed homophobia thing going on, but you do realize it can't work against me, right? J.D. isn't a fucking girl, he has a goddamn penis and I have  _proof_  of that. We are in. A gay. Relationship. And I'm proud of that. Understand?"

With that he simply resumes mopping, and purposely gets it on Cox's shoes.

"Hey!" the doctor finally says, looking offended.

"Just cleaning up the dirt. Y'know."

Cox doesn't bother him after that. And according to J.D, he's been sticking to "Newbie" as a nickname rather than all the girls' names since then.

He wasn't the only problem, though. At least once a day he gets approached by a nurse or an orderly who feels the need to tell him "You know, I never would have guessed you were gay." Like it's supposed to be a compliment? He doesn't bother correcting them and saying he's only  _mostly_  gay and instead just glares at them until they go away.

He almost blames J.D. for their relationship becoming common knowledge to literally the entire staff (including Kelso, who congratulates him and says that if it doesn't work out with Dorian then his son is newly single)—but then he figures it's just part of being in a hospital. Drama and gossip is practically a job requirement, and they're an unconventional couple so naturally, word gets around. Hell, all the regular patients probably know too.

As much as Glen hates all the attention, though, being with J.D. is entirely worth it. Getting to wake up in someone else's bed without alcohol being involved, having someone in  _his_  bed, having someone to cook for aside from himself, having someone who will take care of him—and not just because they're a doctor, but because they  _care_. Not even just purely medical stuff, either—Glen gets in moods. He gets angry and sad and confused and sometimes the chemicals he works with have something to do with it but sometimes it's out of nowhere, and now he doesn't even have to drink as often because he actually  _has_  someone.

The crippling loneliness is gone. The moods come less often. Hell, he even feels physically better and healthier. This is by far the best relationship he's ever had.

Which is actually what makes Glen more and more paranoid. Once a year has passed, he's sure it has to end at any moment now because he's never been allowed to stay happy for too long. There has to be a catch—except there isn't. He and J.D. occasionally fight, but don't all couples? It's only small arguments, anyway. He's never not happy. There isn't even anything wrong with the sex—J.D. is great in bed and his body is just Glen's type. This can't possibly all be real.

It makes him afraid to commit. For over two years they don't live together (though they might as well, with how much time is spent at each other's places), and the thing that finally gets them to an agreement is, essentially, alcohol. Ironically enough, though, Glen isn't even the one who's drunk.

That night he's home from work and he hasn't seen J.D. since the early afternoon, and he's worried. According to Turk and Carla he's not at their place, and no one at the hospital knows where he is either. Glen's very nearly about to report him as a missing person when he finally gets a call, and caller ID says it's his boyfriend.

The voice on the other line doesn't belong to him, though.

"Hey, this guy's too wasted to make the call himself but he wanted me to tell you to come pick him up."

"What—J.D.? J.D. is drunk?"

"About ready to pass out, too."

By the time Glen gets there he is indeed passed out, and he has to carry J.D. over his shoulder to get him out of the bar and into his truck. God. He's never seen him like this. J.D. has never  _done_  anything like this.

He figures his boyfriend will sleep through the night, but he starts to wake up when Glen's carrying him through the front door.

"Hey," is the first thing J.D. says, giving him a tired smile.

Glen kicks the door shut but otherwise stands still, and looks down to the man in his arms.

"You scared the shit outta me, J.D. A lot of other people too, but I don't care about them. What the hell were you getting drunk for?"

At that, he just looks deeply ashamed. And then he half-buries his face in Glen's chest. "I... sorry, Glen, just... something happened at work and I—"

"It's okay," he sighs, sympathetic now. He shouldn't expect J.D. to launch into an explanation while he's still drunk. He starts walking further into his house again, planning to just dump them both on his bed for the night. J.D. looks like he's about to fall asleep again anyway.

But as soon as they're lying down, his boyfriend proves to still be awake.

"A patient died on me today," he whispers. It's only then that Glen notices the redness around his eyes, like he's been crying. "She was just a kid... and she didn't even know. I promised her it would be alright, and then..."

"Oh, God." Glen pulls J.D. into his arms, wrapping them all around the younger man's back, and kisses his head through his mess of hair.

"I'm fine now," he insists, voice muffled by Glen's shirt. "I mean. I have a headache. And I'm still upset. But it's okay."

"Don't do that to me again," he mutters, refusing to let go. "You're a doctor, stuff like that is gonna keep happening... I can be there for you. You don't need to run off and get wasted without me."

"I already said sorry," J.D. whines, still pressed into him, "what more do you want? A handjob?"

It comes without thinking, without even a glance down to where his still-drunk boyfriend's hand is going:

"I want you to move in with me."

"What?" J.D. pulls away to look at him. Glen's just as surprised as he is, really, but he continues.

"I just... I want to be able to know where you are. I dunno, I... I never really had a  _home_  before but this whole situation just made me think. I think I'm ready to officially live together."

J.D. just stares, eyes visibly going in and out of focus. At which point Glen interrupts whatever he might have been about to say.

"You can think about it in the morning, when you're not drunk anymore."

"Okay," he nods, shifting closer to him again. Within the minute he's unconscious, and Glen falls asleep soon after.

The next morning, when they're both getting ready for work, he gets his answer.

"Yeah, I'll move in with you," J.D. tells him while he's in the middle of gargling mouthwash—and he thinks his boyfriend did that on purpose because he nearly chokes on it in surprise.

"Really?" Glen manages to hide how excited and terrified he is at the same time.

"Turk and Carla have been bugging me about moving out anyway. And... I know what you mean about never really having a home. I think it would be nice to start one together."

"You fucking sap," Glen says in response, but he agrees, and he steps forward to kiss him immediately.

J.D. smiles against his mouth and takes a second to run his tongue over his boyfriend's lips. "Oooh, minty."

* * *

 

Alongside Turk and Carla, J.D. and Glen really seem to be Sacred Heart's token couple. Well, technically J.D. and  _the janitor_  because even the few other people who know his real name generally refer to him as such.

Six years and they're still going strong, and the only proof anyone needs is to see them eat lunch together, or kiss in the hallway, or smack each other's asses as they walk past.

Now that J.D.'s an attending, though, he has less and less time to spend on personal matters. By the time he gets home, he's often too tired to do much. So they have to really take advantage of their breaks—especially when they're both in  _the mood_.

The fact that it's public sex makes it even better, actually. There's the chance that they could get caught (which they do, once or twice, but luckily not by anyone who could get them in real trouble), and knowing that it's really not all that private even with the door locked.

It's also better when it's not necessarily planned. So sometimes instead of giving J.D. a time to come meet him in a certain janitor's closet, he simply picks one that his boyfriend is likely to walk by, given his schedule.

Of course, it's a risky game. And it rarely ends up the way he wants. But eventually J.D. does walk in to see him propped up against the wall of a closet, pants down past his knees, and cock in hand.

You would think he never saw Glen like that before, judging by how red he goes.

"Nice of you to join, Doctor," he almost laughs.

"Nice of you to ask me to join," he retaliates.

But it makes no difference—he locks the door and starts forward and lets Glen pull him by the front of his scrubs, and after a minute of making out and his boyfriend palming his crotch, he's ready to drop to his knees.

Except Glen has something else in mind, and he hauls J.D. back up at once, turning them around and pinning him to the wall instead, then dropping to his own knees.

"Holy shit, Glen—"

He suspects that the rest of that was going to be something along the lines of " _you want to suck my dick that bad?_ "—in which case, the answer would be  _yes_. He's been thinking about it all day, and he honestly can't fucking wait to jerk J.D.'s pants down and get his cock in his mouth.

Years of practice make it so easy—he's genuinely come to enjoy the feeling of pressure in the back of his throat like this. He loves having hands pulling hard at his hair and his nose pressed to J.D.'s stomach every time he takes it all in, and he loves pulling back and looking up at J.D.'s face with just the head of his cock in his mouth and watching him get even more aroused.

And God, he's almost embarrassed at how fucking gay he is, but he barely even has to touch himself. When J.D.'s about to come, he pulls back to make sure it gets directly on his tongue, and then he comes almost immediately after.

With his pants still around his calves, and with how much he's shaking, it's hard to stand up afterward. And when he does, he leans against his boyfriend and kisses his reddened face, then, once he stops breathing so heavily, his mouth.

"Do you want me to—" J.D. stops once he notices that Glen is nearly flaccid, eyes widening in realization. "Oh."

"Guess I just  _really_  love sucking your dick," he mutters into his cheek, grinning and kissing him again.

"Dammit, you got it on my pants."

"That's your problem now, Scooter."

* * *

 

Gay marriage becomes legal in California in 2008.

It's not like Glen never expected it to happen someday. But it's always just been in the back of his mind because he's never really thought that he would  _want_  to be married. That, and while he does keep up with politics, he doesn't necessarily feel like a part of the LGBT community.

Before J.D., (and after working at Sacred Heart), the only interaction he had with other queer people was by chance or going to a gay bar to pick up a one-night stand. He didn't spend time at rallies or pride parades and he barely even thought about queer issues on his own time. He's always been just... oddly detached.

But the option is there now. And God, he wants to. A wedding, a house, a front yard, a dog, maybe even some genetically enhanced adopted children.

Glen sits on it a while before doing anything, though. Not because he has any doubts about whether or not J.D. is the One—because of course he is, he's probably the only person on earth who genuinely shares all of his interests and all of his crazy. But rather, because he needs to make sure that everything is done perfectly.

The huge thing is that he knows he can't afford a proper ring, but he manages. And then everything else is mostly just figuring out what he wants to say and where it's going to be.

The weeks of planning he puts into it are completely wasted, though, because he ends up winging it.

Fate just doesn't want to give him some decent private time with his boyfriend. Which makes him more and more anxious, and which in turn makes it even more difficult to pin him down and just propose.

Privacy be damned, he just wants to get it done. The hospital staff knows pretty much everything about their relationship, anyway.

So Glen ends up making an impulse decision and stopping him near the receptionist desk. One of the most busy fucking places in the whole hospital.

"I would do this somewhere else, but it's really important and I can't wait."

"Glen, wh—"

"Just—sorry, I have a thing planned that I want to say, and I don't want to screw it up." It's a lot of work not to talk too quickly or stumble over his words, but he's doing okay so far. He clearly isn't being quiet enough, though, because other people are already looking in their direction.

"Okay. Here goes: You're the love of my life. And I mean, it was  _literally_  love at first sight. I feel like as soon as I met you, I knew... well, I knew that I wasn't getting over you. Ever. I want to spend the rest of my  _life_  with you. And I was thinking—it's all 'cause of the penny, isn't it? I can't imagine what would have happened if you never apologized for dropping the penny in the door. Or if you just never dropped it."

He pauses to reach into his back pocket and pulls out a ring, which is where J.D. covers his mouth and there are a few audible gasps from the onlookers. Glen is breathing heavily himself, but trying to hide it; he still has more to say.

"I never told you, because I thought I would look like too much of an obsessive bastard, but I kept that penny. And I drilled a hole in it and turned it into this." Steadying himself so he doesn't fall over, he then drops to one knee. God, he's shaking. "I feel cheesy as hell saying this, but—John Dorian, will you marry me?"

He doesn't even say yes, he just nods feverishly and sticks his hand out for the ring. It's not even the right hand but Glen can tell him later, all he wants to do is get it on his finger and stand up again so he can kiss him. And when he does, there's a fucking applause, he swears he can even hear someone crying before Kelso walks in and asks why everyone's just standing around.

When he breaks the kiss, J.D. briefly presses their foreheads together and says, "I'm not taking your last name, though. People will be calling me  _J.M._  for months after the wedding."

Glen smirks and gives him another peck on the lips. "We'll hyphenate it."

* * *

 

Married life is great.

Well, sometimes it is. Sometimes it's just okay. And sometimes there's just a prolonged feeling of guilt because his wife is right over there and he's still thinking about  _what could have been_.

She's happy to talk to him about J.D. and help him work through his feelings, but as much as he loves her, Glen doesn't believe those feelings will ever fully work out. Every so often, though maybe less and less often as time goes on, he's going to genuinely wish that things had been different.

He's happy, but he could have been happier.  _If only._

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry that even this one had to be sad. But if I don't establish that it was all just an elaborate fantasy, it won't fit into the Untold Janitor Story because it's all supposed to be canon compliant.


End file.
